Trip
Journal
Friends
of Morocco Moroccan-American Friendship tour Nov 3-10, 2001
Trip Journal compiled by Anne Herisson-Leplae
November 10,
2001
Testimonial written by OAT traveler: McKK
I was ambivalent about visiting Morocco post September 11 despite having the trip planned for months. My fears were put to rest as soon as I began to meet the people of Morocco. People would approach me on the street and engage me in conversation. They shared their sadness regarding September 11th and welcomed me to their country. Pleasure was apparent when I attempted simple Arabic words. Our guide often told us how peaceful Moroccans are and this was quite apparent. I traveled through cities and in the country meeting only people earning their living and loving their families. It is very possible that I will visit Morocco again one day.
Day 1 - 2 p.m.
11/01/01
Written by Doug
Teschner
Well, we made it and are headed north after big feast at Casa Women's Center. Great authentic food, much better than a restaurant. It is different for me because I was just here 10 weeks ago. Almost like I never left. Hassan II Mosque tour was better this time. Traveling on the tour bus was a lot different than the train. I miss the contact with Moroccans that public transport requires.
Day 1 -
Nov 04, 2001
Casablanca - Rabat
(on bus to Rabat)
Written by
Steve Hanchey
After reassembling
at Casablanca Mohammed V airport upon arrival at 8:00 a.m., the group
continued to get acquainted while waiting for straggling passengers still
in customs and baggage claim. Steve Hanchey, who had preceded the group to
Morocco by 2 days, was reunited with Ann Reese, a Special Education PCV at
the Cheshire Foundation in Marrakech whom he first met in 1985.
The Marché
Centrale in downtown Casa was our first stop. We marveled over the
abundance of fruits and vegetables. Ellen and I tried to remember the
Arabic word for "turnip" (
) but soon found out from the nearest vendor. We talked with a
woman vendor of various kinds of honey and oils, including the famous
"argane" oil from the Essouira region.
Back in the bus
for the short drive to the Hassan II Mosque on the ocean front the
imposing 200 meter high minaret can be seen for dozens of kilometers away.
The scale and elaborate interior decoration of the mosque was beyond our
expectations. The highlight of the tour for me was the discovery that the
architect had built both a Moroccan and a Turkish hammam in the expansive
basement of the building. The Turkish version features a beautiful
circular pool in the center of a large marble underground calderlum.
Apparently neither hammam has been used yet as the foundation which
operates the mosque and its ajacent madrasa seeks a private operator to
take them over.
Lunch was at the
suburban villa of the Association de Solidarité Féminine, an NGO
dedicated to supporting single mothers by providing job training,
nutritional consultation and crafts to women at risk. A lamb tajine was
enjoyed by all.
Back on the bus
for the hour and 20 minute drive through the parched Moroccan countryside
to Rabat where we checked into the luxurious and comfortable Rabat Hilton.
In the evening we were treated to a reception hosted by Jack and Carol
McCreary, Marrakech RPCV's. Jack is the Public Affairs Officer
(POA) at the US Embassy in Rabat. The guests included various Peace
Corps staff and RPCV's as well as friends of Peace Corps over the years.
Our group included RPCVs from as long ago as 1969. Ellen was reunited with
her APCD, Peter Kreuge, now a USAID officer in Rabat. Many other old
friendships and acquaintances were rekindled during the lovely evening in
the McCreary's garden.
Day 1
Written by
Ellen Hunt
Arms on her knees,
there she sat on the curb alongside the highway, next to her cousin, her
neighbor, and her girlfriend, waiting for the bus, her brown calves
shining in the sun. What of it, she was wearing her djellaba and scarf and
life was good, a moment in the sun.
Day 1 -2
Written by Jim
Teschner
Last evening, my
two brothers and I ventured into Sale to see a friend of my brother, Doug,
who lived in Sale in 1971 - 73. (I had visited him in 1973 and stayed in
his apartment.) It was night, we were exhausted, but who would want to
sleep in the Rabat Hilton when you could walk the streets of Sale at night
, and exhausted! I'm from New York City where most of life is scheduled 2
- 4 weeks in advance (as it seems) yet we were dropping by at 9:00 p.m.
without warning. We first visited his former apartment - at least the
second floor courtyard - I remember well his sparse apartment, the
Arabic/Turkish toilet, the sounds of the cock crowing at dawn, the calls
to prayer, and the extraordinary smells of the street! I missed the
comfort of our New England home but LOVED Moroccan life. But back to last
night. We wandered through small streets - they got smaller and smaller
the closer we got to the apartment. Brother Doug knocked on the door - we
could hear the sounds of their TV, and suddenly the door opened and we
were greeted by a 10 - 12 year old boy - Adam. We all got 4 kisses on the
cheek! This greeting, this warmth, is so lovely, so sweet, so
special as one feels truly welcomed - wanted - in their home. The house
was fairly basic - a main room, a small kitchen and bathroom, 2 small
bedrooms, and then a room we sat in that had benches along the entire
perimeter with very hard cushions with "fancy" fabric.
The pillows all had matching fabric. In the middle of the room was a round
table. Adam's father was there but his mother and sister were away for the
night. We all sat in the guest room with hard cushions. My brother gave
them photos from when he, his wife, and two teenage sons had been there
last August. Gifts were also given (my 12-year-old nephew gave Adam a
gameboy). The TV bounced off the tiled walls. As the wife was away, Adam
made the mint tea. Per my brother's request, a video of the family wedding
was played, the highlight being the slaughter of the cow a gift from the
groom's family. A deep cut to the throat, practically decapitating it.
Much blood, feet twitching. I thought of O.J. Simpson for a brief moment.
Halfway through tea, Adam's older brother and friend arrived. More kisses,
more talk (in French and Arabic), more tea. After my brother David and I
began to fall asleep (Adam's older brother kept admonishing us to stay
awake) we said our good-bye's, only to have everyone (except Adam) escort
us to the main street to find a taxi. After much negotiation between
driver, Adam's father and brother Doug, we settled at 80 dirhams ($8.00).
(We paid $100 dirhams ($10.00) from the Hilton.) But we had to go
to another part of Sale to pick up the driver's wife and daughter. (A good
thing, as it allowed the driver to refill the radiator, which had been
smoking.) But before getting in the cab, everyone exchanged more kisses on
the cheeks (well, at least with Adam's brother - I think we shook hands
with the father).
This morning, we
all met Margaret Tutwiller, the US. Ambassador to Morocco. She
complimented us on our being in Morocco and encouraged that we all spread
the word that US people aren't greedy and arrogant but tell them that we
are kind, giving and idealistic. She told us that our generation had
failed to get the word out about how good we are. Yes, she is right to
acknowledge that understanding between people happens on a one-to-one
basis but I wanted to tell her that
it's no wonder the US is often hated around the world because the US
government for the past 50 - 75 years has been greedy, domineering and is
only interested in supporting US economic interests at the expense of the
citizens of the countries it tries to control and exploit! But I held
my tongue as the Friends of Morocco had another agenda that day and I
didn't want to disrupt the "nice feelings" in the room.
Day 3
Fes - all day
Written by
David Teschner
We started the day with an overlook of the Fes medina - low, earth-colored buildings expansive, sitting in a bowl with low mountains or hills surrounding. I had a good experience with 2 small boys herding sheep as Juanita and I walked down the hill to take a picture of a black olive tree. Boys were friendly and enterprising posing for pictures for a small price. I also gave them a pen. After taking in the view, we visited a pottery factory and learned about mosaics. The men were in a small room cutting tiny pieces with great precision. The mosaics and pottery were beautiful but quite expensive. After that, we started a lengthy sojourn on foot through the medina. 15,000 streets, very narrow, crowded with people and donkeys and carts. We found it hard to stay together and all would've been terribly lost if not for the hometown knowledge of Ishmael and Hassan. Juanita and I bought an old Berber rug (used) in a big house converted to a rug store. A man carried it for us for the remainder of our walk. I paid him 20 dh. I was impressed by design and handwork, wood and paint of gates and doorways to mosques. I liked the bar across one entrance to a street so that everyone would have to bow to Allah. Having been in Old City of Jerusalem, the experience was not unique but extremely enjoyable,
Day 3
Fes
Written by Anne
Hérisson-Leplae
At noon, Tim,
Ellen and I left the group at the rug seller in the Fez medina to catch a
taxi back to the hotel where we had arranged to meet Sadiq Rddad. Sadiq's
older brothers had both married Peace Corps volunteers, and Sadiq is an
English professor at the University in Fez. His wife, Ouafa, is a high
school English teacher. The fourth Rddad brother had recently moved to New
York City and their mother spent several weeks every year in the US with
her grandchildren.
As we approached
Sadiq's apartment, we met his three sons playing ball on the street.
Sadiq and Ouafa's apartment was decorated with intricate plaster
work and the sitiing room was lined with enough cushioned benches to sit
dozens of guests. The apartment is lined with English-language and Arabic
novels, publications, dictionaries and encyclopedias. It is very much the
home of well-read intellectuals.
While we waited
for lunch Sadiq spoke about his activities at the university. He teaches
courses such as American literature and views of Morocco as seen through
travel chronicles of various authors who have visited the country. He is
also on the editorial staff of an English language publication called
Moroccan Cultural Studies Journal. He gave each of us copies of the last 2
issues of the journal as well as a copy of the book, "The Battle of
Alcazar", a British drama on Morocco and Moors. The journal publishes
poems, short fiction, excerpts and interviews on
various topics dealing with Moroccan culture. Its aim is to create
a forum for ideas on Moroccan culture and foster encounters and
interactions between Morocco and the West. Sadiq also mentioned wanting to
organize a conference on American - Moroccan studies at the University in
Fez in 2002 or 2003. This sparked Tim's interest who promised to follow up
on the idea.
Ouafa joined us
after finishing her noon time prayer. We were soon asked to sit around a
table and were brought a dish covered with grated carrots, minced beets,
cucumber slices, hard boiled eggs as well as round loaves of wonderful
homemade bread. Ouafa expressed her sorrow at the events of September 11.
She also asked many questions about me, my family and other American
friends. After the salad, we were served an exquisite prune and lamb
tajine. Though the meals we had had until then were wonderful, this one
surpassed them. We felt completely welcome in Sadiq and Ouafa's home. I
had a very hard time leaving several hours later, though we promised to
stay in touch by postal and e-mail. Sadiq walked us back to the hotel
where Tim introduced him to Hassan and an acquaintance who was also
interested in Sadiq's idea of a conference at the university.
Day 4 - 6
Written by Anne
Hérisson-Leplae
Shortly after
leaving Ikhouane University in Ifrane, the bus arrived in Azrou where I
got off to catch a grand taxi for Midelt, a small town in the Middle
Atlas. I had spent 2 years in Midelt as an English teacher with the Peace
Corps from 1984 to 1986. This was my first trip back in 14 years. I was
among six passengers and a driver to squeeze into the grand taxi. It took
us 2 hours to cover the 120 km between Midelt and Azrou. During most of
that time we were silent. An elderly passenger heading for Errachidia was
very curious about me. He was surprised that I was American and not
French. During our trip we crossed pine forests then arid landscapes
dotted with young shepherd boys, their herds and lazy sheep dogs.
We finally reached
Midelt. Other than the satellite dishes on the roofs of the low mud-brick
homes, the town look much as it did 15 years earlier. However, I was
disoriented and asked a young man who had offered to help to guide me to
my friends' house. After walking around town for almost an hour we finally
found the Place Ikhermijioune (the "golden castle" in Berber)
where we found Rebha Aït Oundir's apartment. Rebha and her family had
moved from their traditional mud brick home to the more modern second
story apartment they had rented to a string of Peace Corps volunteers
since the late 1970's.
I had not given
any warning of my arrival as the family has no telephone and I didn't know
the address. Despite my 14 year absence, Rebha recognized me instantly and
offered us mint tea then tajine. In the years since I had left Midelt, the
family had more than doubled with the addition of daughters-in-law and
grandchildren. Living with Rebha were her sons, Moha and Hassan, Moha's
wife Latifa and their three children. Rebha's daughter, Bedda, also lived
in the Ikhermijioune neighborhood with her family. The middle son, Aziz,
lived in Errachidia, a town south of Midelt, but was now in town for a few
days with his daughter in order to have a winter suit made.
Though school was
out for a week in celebration of the Green March, Moha's two daughters,
Loubna (12) and Sana (8) were spending the afternoon with a tutor who
helped them keep up with their schoolwork.
After much kissing
and hugging and inquiries about our respective families, the family
offered their condolences for the victims of the terrorist attacks in New
York and wanted more details about it. They were concerned for the other
Peace Corps volunteers they had met over the years. They were also
impressed by the US Ambassador's recent TV appearance.
After several more
glasses of mint tea with Rebha's extended family and several neighbors,
Hassan suggested we go out for a tour of the market. Rebha did not let me
leave the house without a pair of woolen long underwear - a must for the
Midelt chill - heavy socks and a head scarf.
Midelt has two
souks (outdoor markets): a large one on Sunday which takes place in the
outskirts of the town and which sells everything from vegetables and
fruit, to live chickens, djellabas, jewelry, perfume and household goods.
It would bring in people from the neighboring villages who would come
streaming in by foot, donkey or car. The more modest Wednesday souk was
stacked with everything necessary to prepare for Ramadam which would start
in 10 days: tomatoes, oranges, chick peas, almonds, dates, spices, soup
bowls, tea glasses, etc. It also had young boys selling mica (plastic
bags), and carts selling candied peanuts, popcorn and balloons. The
vendors shout out their prices, and the customers are as much there to
socialize as to buy. It is a very animated place.
After the souk, we
walked through the cedar-smelling town and bought cassettes of Berber and
Arabic music from one of the closet-sized shops that lined the streets. At
a photo shop which sold batteries and rolls of film by the piece,
portraits of two former Peace Corps volunteers were displayed among the
other portraits. The shop owner had just read the article about the
Friends of Morocco in the Arabic newspaper El Aalm. He was interested in
contacting Friends of Morocco by e-mail to find the volunteer who had
taught him English in the late 1970's.
We went to one of
the town's two internet cafés. This one had been set up by a young
Midelti who had recently returned after finishing his studies in the US.
Though the connection was slower than in the US, for 6 dh an hour, the café
was a great way for me to contact my family in the US. All Peace Corps
volunteers now in Morocco are connected to the internet and many have cell
phones. This is very different from our experience 15 years ago where a
phone call was a half day affair and postal mail unreliable.
At sunset we
walked to the convent which housed a cooperative run by European nuns to
train local women in weaving Berber rugs and embroidery destined for
tourists.
On the way home,
we bought a chicken (chosen live, then killed, plucked and cleaned at the
shop). We dined that evening on a delicious chicken, potato and turnip
tajine with homemade bread. This meal again surpassed all the meals I had
had so far, in part because of the warmth and hospitality of Rebha and her
family. Though the tajine and bread were exactly as I remembered them to
be 15 years earlier, they were now prepared by Latifa. Over sheeba
(absinthe) tea, we reminisced over pictures of the family and former Peace
Corps volunteers. When I asked them their ages, they needed to consult
their birth certificates. Rebha remembered that she was the same age as
the late King Hassan II, 72 years old. They all looked quite a bit younger
than what the papers indicated.
It was then time
to prepare the family room for the night by putting blankets and pillows
on the narrow mattresses lining the walls which served as sofas during the
day.
The next morning,
after folding the blankets and removing the extra mattresses and piling
them high in a corner of the room, the family had fresh bread and mint tea
for breakfast. Rebha declared that it was a feast day because of my visit.
First on the agenda was to spend the morning at the hammam. Two hours
later we came out shiny and pink from the heat and scrubbing. To continue
the festive atmosphere, we had couscous for lunch. It was better than I
had remembered it to be. The rest of the day was spent drinking tea and
visiting. I was beginning to recall some of the Arabic I had once known,
but the conversation slipped into Berber once in a while.
The evening, after dinner, Rebha decorated my hands and feet with
henna. It was to remind me of the good times we had spent together. I went
to sleep with my hands and feet swaddled with cloths in order to have the
henna penetrate all night.
The next morning,
my hands and feet were a deep rust color. The henna had worked perfectly.
The women of the house had gotten up early to make miloui, a Berber
pancake, which we ate for breakfast. We wrapped the remaining miloui to
take with us on our journey and heavy-hearted I left vowing to come back
as soon as possible. Hassan had proposed to accompany me, an offer I
gladly accepted. We took grand taxis from city to city, finally, 10 hours
later we arrived at the hotel in Casablanca and met the rest of the group.
I still had my Midelti long woolen underwear, socks and scarf, hennaed
hands and feet, and a sheepskin under my arms (a gift from Rebha). I felt
like a country bumpkin in the chic hotel. Though I welcomed the
conveniences of the hotel, I already felt far from the Morocco I had
fallen in love with more than 15 years ago.
Day 3
Written by
Juanita Teschner
We had a memorable
experience Tuesday night at Hotel Menzeh Zalagh. Aziz Lebbar, a
representative of the Moroccan Parliament, hosted our dinner. He was
accompanied by three gentlemen: the Minister of Tourism, the
vice-president of the region and a French businessman.
We were served
harira, pastilla and tajine, and the wine flowed freely. After
entertainment by two musicians, a belly dancer and a drum ensemble, Aziz
Lebbar, who owned the restaurant, spoke to the group. He thanked us
profusely for coming to Morocco and expressed his sadness at the September
11 tragedy. He stressed the level of tolerance in Morocco and wished for
peace in the world.
Doug Teschner, who
serves in the New Hampshire legislature, noted that peace will be realized
when individuals from different nations reach out to one another. Tim
Resch spoke of our desire to extend the hand of friendship to Morocco,
especially now during a period of tension in the world, and to send a
message to Americans that Morocco is a safe, warm and hospitable place.
A second group,
made up of people who are on an outdoor adventure tour, shared our dining
area. Aziz and Doug urged them to take this message back home as well.
The evening
radiated warmth and good will. It was an excellent experience.
Day 4
Trip to
Parliament
Written by Doug
Teschner
While in Fes, Hassan
(through his usual incredible connections) made contact with a member
of parliament. I presume this happened because of his attentiveness to the
group (in this case me) because he knew that I had an interest. Well, Mr.
MP (Aziz Lebbar) invited us to his hotel for dinner where, late in the
meal, he got up and gave a passionate speech about American-Moroccan
relationships. I was asked to speak, most unexpectedly, and commended the
other Americans present (in an Overseas Adventure trip) for their courage
to come and said that, if there is going to be a peace in this world, it
has to start with one-on-one contact between Americans and people of other
countries. When I mentioned that I had never visited the Parliament, Aziz,
who speaks almost perfect English, invited me the very next day.
So, on Wednesday,
I stayed in Fes after the group left. Aziz picked me up at 12 and we drove
to Rabat, with much political discussion en route. I got an update on the
current political parties, etc. And he gave me lots of pro-American
commentary en route. He did say he thought we should stop bombing during
Ramadan and also said Palestinian question is of greater concern to
Morocco than Afghanistan.
On arrival he
introduced me to a number of MP's and we gave out FOM pins! The building
was impressive and I sat through part of a Q & A session (a regular
element in the parliamentary sessions). It was in a mix of classical and
Moroccan Arabic and I didn't understand much, but picked up enough of one
question from the Islamic party about why Morocco is supporting the US war
on terrorism when the US calls Palestinians terrorists for defending their
land (translated by Aziz). We had lunch in the parliament cafeteria - more
pins given out and discussions with MP's. Then we watched more of the Q
& A session and Aziz took me to the train station. I rode to Casa on
the train with an MP I'd met at Parliament who lectured me on why the US
should agree to Kyoto protocols. From Casa to Marrakech, the train was
uncrowded. I enjoyed the time by myself (which has been rare on this trip
- the people contacts have been great but sometimes you need a break!).
I got to Marrakech
at 10:20 (the new trains are great and run on time), had my first
(unsuccessful) attempt to use a pay phone before taxiing to restaurant
(too late), passed through Djema el Fna (great!), then hotel.
Exciting to see the lights of Marrakech and the Koutoubia.
A great trip and
very exciting for me to connect with MP's.
Day 4
Travel Day
Written by
Ellen Hunt
Long bus ride from
Fez to Marrakech with a couple of rest stops.
Departure from
Sheraton Fez at 8:00. We had an appointment at 10:00 at the University Al
Hayatan, an English language American system.
Day 5
Hotel Meryem,
Marrakech
Written by Dr.
Stan Olivier
One of the
highlights of today was the visit to Chez Ali, a place of high
entertainment. Each event created such an excitement as the dancers and
musicians from many areas of Morocco played their musical instruments and
the women sang and danced for us. The camels and horses put on a great a
great show and included fireworks that matched the sounds of music.
Moroccan style dinner was held under the tents and it was the very best
meal we have had this week. Carol, Ellen,
Martha, Jim and I did a tour of the Medina area called the Mellah (the
Jewish quarters). We saw many restored buildings which were now being used
as museums. We had lunch at a restaurant overlooking the large plaza and
watched from on high the many activities of this center of Marrakech.
Not to forget, we
had a very pleasant visit to the American Language Center of Marrakech
which is run by Michael Abdurrahman Fitzgerald, the director. This school
claims to have 2,700 students who study English and/or Spanish for 3 hr's
per week for 30 hours a month at a cost of 700 dhs. We had the chance to
visit the many classes and to interact with the students, It was evident
that they were making progress in learning languages.
During our visit
in Morocco it has been my pleasure to know that over 50 Lions Clubs are
active in this lovely country.
One of my main
projects in Morocco has been my attempt to locate a medical doctor who can
provide the needed eye surgery for Jod Alami, a young man who lives in
Sale, a city near Rabat. With Carol's help we have set up an appointment
for Saturday noon with Dr. Zhor Outarahout M'Rabet at the Clinique des
Nations Unies. It is my hope that Jod will be able to receive the eye
surgery he needs to restore his sight. His sister, Karima, who currently
lives in Arizona, will want to know of his progress. I met Karima at a
restaurant in Phoenix and we became friends very quickly. My wife and I
invited her to speak to our college for lifelong education called New
Adventures in Learning for Seniors (NAILS) on Morocco. Her outgoing
personality was readily accepted by the members of the class of which I
was the facilitator called "Road to Morocco". I have offered
this class three times now because I enjoy sharing my experience with
others about life in Morocco during my Peace Corps Volunteer days.
Day 5
Hike in the
Atlas Mts., Toubkal Region
Written by
David Teschner
Doug, Juanita and
I left our hotel in Marrakesh at 5:30 a.m. to catch a city or small taxi
to the edge of town where we boarded a Mercedes for the 1 hour trip to
Asni. Last part of the road to Asni was narrow and very winding, tortuous
and treacherous. Steep drops and broken guard rails made you pray
constantly. The driver was nonchalant driving with one hand. In Asni we
had some bread and coffee (sweetened) while we waited for an enclosed
truck to drive us to Imlil. I guess it was too early, 9:00, to find a
driver, so the café owners found a friend with a car. After we loaded up,
he stepped and banged on a garage door to wake up a young man and get air
for his tire. Good thing he did. The road up the river bed was not paved
and portions washed out. It took nearly an hour to go 10 miles. In Imlil
we immediately met friends of Doug from his trip in August, 2001 and Larbi
and Mammadou. After our hike, we bought gifts (drums) in their shops. We
sat again for drinks and bread and butter and jams, Doug called this
"social climbing" - much tea and visiting before we ever took a
step. Doug arranged for a donkey and young boy for 100 dh to accompany us
up the trail. Rashid was 13 years old and great fun. Juanita rode some and
walked mostly. The trail to Chamarouche (holy man) was gradual through 2
villages, one quite extensive (Aromal). Here we were looking for someone
Doug had met earlier and had a picture to deliver. In the course of trying
to find him, we walked higher and higher to the top of the village. The
village was perched on a steep hillside. A woman invited us in for tea in
her new and quite attractive small inn. After more social climbing, we
continued up to Chamarouche with Mt. Toubkal always up and ahead of us.
This nearly 14,000 foot snow-covered peak looked like a very challenging
climb. We went up above 7,000 feet. The trail was well-groomed and there
was not much traffic this time of year. Views were always good. I much
prefer hiking in the open than under cover of trees. There was good
variation from village to river bed to steep-sided trail high above the
river. There was a beautiful waterfall just below Chamarouche which I
scrambled down to see and photograph.
At the end of one
vertical climb, we sat and chatted with some English-speaking young men.
Doug supported the local community with the purchase of 2 rugs for a
"very good price- real Berber, not like Marrakech.”
Having the mule
with saddlebags enabled Doug not to have to carry down his two rugs. We
didn't need to carry our day packs or water bottles either. We purchased
our water and food for lunch in Imlil just before we started walking, but
we could've bought drinks and snacks in Chamarouche.
There we visited
the tomb of the holy man. Juanita could only go so far. A man and sign
stopped her. I chatted with two English-speaking young men about
Christianity, Judaism and Islam. I told them I was a "Christian
Imam." (I'm an Episcopal priest.) Their eyes were wide open at the
thought. We talked a little about prophets, Abraham, Isaiah, Jesus and
Mohammed. For the sake of interfaith relations, I didn't try to explain
the Christian doctrine of the divinity of Jesus or the Trinity. We just
agreed "One God.”
The climb down was
along the same trail until we reached the river bed about 2/3 of the way
back. There we veered left and returned to Imlil by another way through a
small village. Both Doug and I took a turn on the "Berber
Mercedes" to experience balancing on a mule descending steep grades.
I worked harder on the donkey than on the ground.
In Asni we bought
our drums, said our good-byes and loaded an enclosed truck, a Moroccan
version of a SUV. This vehicle traveled more quickly than the earlier car,
but the wooden benches in the rear were not nearly as comfortable. In Asni
we loaded a Mercedes for an extremely rapid trip back to the hotel.
Especially through the winding portion, there were many "shweeahs"
from Doug to the driver.
All in all it was
a tremendous day to experience some solitude, meet new friends and
exercise all in the beauty of the High Atlas Mountains.
Of course,
traveling with Doug is never dull, and we were grateful for his knowledge
of the language, the culture and the mountains.
Day 7
In the airplane
back to the US
Written by Dr.
Stan Olivier
My Peace Corps
Volunteer experience gave me the motivation to continue my education in
the area of Special Education. I learned lots working with the blind
population about the great need for training blind people to be
employed. So upon my return to the states, I enrolled in courses that
would give me the knowledge to train blind people to be ready to take on
jobs in society. I found blind people who were already employed as
teachers, computer operators, lawyers, factory workers, telephone
operators, salespersons, cafeteria workers, and many other areas in the
United States. I feel that Peace Corps Maroc could do more to assist the
blind population to be trained to take on jobs in their country. This type
of program can be introduced to the Moroccan society and assistance by
trained vocational personnel could be provided to demonstrate what blind
people can do in the work world. Grant monies from rich Arabic nations and
new PCV's with vocational training could be a great asset to this type of
program. Using techniques for interviewing for employment, orientation and
mobility training to the job from home, transportation to and from work
adaptation on the job needed by the blind person to perform his/her job
skills would be necessary, too.
Working with the
blind population in the Los Angeles Unified District as Vocational Advisor
to blind, visually impaired, deaf-blind and learning disabled students
gave me the opportunity to develop many programs which did assist blind
students to be successfully employed. My doctoral studies were centered
around finding special accommodations for the visually disabled persons to
permit them to be employed in jobs usually reserved for sighted persons.
When visiting other countries in Europe, I saw many blind persons being trained at different occupations and this knowledge could easily be transferred to Moroccan blind people. I would be willing to train PCV's to assist blind students to prepare for the work world. I don't see the end of PCV's working with the blind population of Maroc. What good is an education if a person can't use it to find a job in his society?
